Tales of The Forgiving Goddess
by Miss Rune
Summary: In which Aloha takes a cautious step forward towards believing in the one that would save them all. Even those who felt they didn't deserve it.


**A/N: I fell in love with this game and the story behind it as many others have done. I have cared for each little pixelated character I brought into the world of Isola as I'm sure many have done before me. Enjoy and please leave some feedback! Contains game spoilers.**

Though the agony was excruciating, her lungs burning like the pits of hell and the pounding in her head feeling more like twenty or so gongs smashing their way around her skull, she still could hear the curious whispers of her fellow kin as they worked tirelessly to find a cure for her illness. She caught fragments of their conversation through the haze of pain as they tended to her, trying to cool her raging fever and cease the dry, rasping sound that escaped her mouth as she desperately tried to draw the cool air of Isola into her lungs. They spoke of strange, alien like matters that frightened her to an extent which she was unfamiliar with; their tales of a tribe so very unlike her own.

Her fellows spoke of a strange people who had stumbled upon their peaceful and downcast domain days after a child of their own had wandered into the jungle and returned without his mask, pale and shaking, a light shining in his eyes that frightened all that looked into their depths. Though his words were believed false at the time, he claimed to have seen other people thriving by the side of the mighty banyan tree that they had deserted many years ago, happy, laughing and without a single mask.

The child was beaten for his supposed lies at the time but it later confirmed that he had spoken the truth as a small party of these strange, foreign humans journeyed deep into the jungle towards their settlement, seeking the owner of the peculiar mask they had found. They were ambushed, captured by her tribe and brought alive as prisoners to their camp. But although the unmasked ones were clearly afraid of her tribe's warriors, many said a determined light shone in the eyes of even the smallest child and they thrived despite being in enemy territory. They did not attempt any kind of revolt and tried to work as harmoniously as possible with her tribe despite the sole incident where one of the older unmasked children had given the heathen dubbed Rascel a mighty shove as he had been interrupting the work of the unmasked adults.

The foreign women were hardly timid as well and attempted to communicate as best they could with those that would listen to them. Many cobalt masked tribesmen who had spoken with them began to speak of what these unmasked ones claimed to their own kin. Soon the whole heathen village was buzzing with their strange and wondrous tales, even the troublemaking Rascal cautiously trying to listen in on their stories without frightening them away with his wild antics.

Still, even before she'd fallen ill, Aloha was highly suspicious of these strange, happy people that were polar opposites from her own tribe. Apart from the fact that they possessed not a single mask, they also tried to speak of their Goddess to any who would listen. But the stories of a kind, forgiving and guiding goddess were ludicrous to most of the heathens. Besides, even if there was such a being who cared for these people, there was simply no way even such a loving guiding force would accept her broken, haunted and cowardly tribe.

Spasms racked Ahola's poor frame as she coughed, her fellow colleagues and tribesmen rushing to her side to check her condition. But despite their frantic attempts, the very real notion that one of their most skilled healers would pass away from this illness loomed over their heads like a dark cloud of despair. One of the girls, a youngster who had only just passed initiation two suns ago broke down and buried her masked face into her hands, sobs racking her thin frame that had been deprived of substance, so desperate was she to save the sick woman.

Aloha closed her eyes against the emotional agony displayed by the body language of her masked kin and felt a familiar loneliness and grief nestle itself in the pit of her stomach. She was going to die. There was nothing in the ancient medical scrolls of her tribe that could stop this illness from extinguishing the fragile flame of her life. She was going to die.

_I..I don't want to die...not yet…_

"Please let me through. This woman is suffering is she not?" A soft voice murmured gently, masculine and unfamiliar but so calm amongst the frantic whimpers of her own kin.

That wasn't the voice of a man that belonged to her tribe. It must be one of those unmasked freaks.

"Get away from me." Aloha rasped vehemently. "I don't want any of you delirious fools to touch me!"

The man tsked softly and she heard him speaking a low voice to one of her fellow healers, requesting that they gather some certain herbs that grew by the cliff.

Albeit reluctantly, her kin went and fetched the herbs for the unmasked man and with a quick word of thanks he quickly began to ground the herbs in a thick, wet paste. From there he strained the liquid from the paste into a roughly carved wooden bowl and added some sweet juice from the fruitrees littered around this habituated part of Isola to sweeten the taste of the bitter herbs. Knowing that Aloha was far too weak to physically protest, he gently moved the woman into a sitting position and asked that her kin feed her the potion.

Aloha tried to struggle, certain that this man would poison her with his quack remedies but her attempts were fruitless and somehow the foreigner managed to force the drink down her throat. Spluttering and coughing, Aloha tried to ignore the pleasant and gentle cooling sensation that was sweeping through her parched throat.

"Better?" She faintly heard the unmasked man ask gently.

The violent tempered wench scoffed and spluttered for a while but eventually offered a short word of thanks.

"Our Goddess taught us of such remedies many years ago. Your illness is nothing serious." The man murmured softly. "Should it return, gather the Maicia herbs that grow beside the cliff and ask that your kin repeat the process I have shown them."

Aloha's eyes flashed angrily behind her violet mask.

"A Goddess? You say a Goddess taught you these things? Enough of these lies! I'm sick of such tales!" The woman snarled.

The man didn't flinch and stared back at her evenly.

"The Goddess sees value in each and every one of us; even you and your kin Aloha. After all, twas only because of her wise advice that I could assist you." The dark haired male said, a hint of steel in his voice, determination and absolute faith Aloha had never seen before shining in his grey eyes.

She was stunned to say the very least. Such faith, such unwavering belief as she had never before witnessed. With such a passionate gleam in those emotionally revealing eyes, could these tales of the awakened Goddess possibly be lies? Was there possibly a caring deity still in this world that cared for the unmasked and the masked alike?

It it seemed so foolish and Ahola's heart trembled at the thought of trusting the deity of Isola once again. Had her tribe not been forsaken by such beings long ago one that fateful night?

"Could you remove that mask of yours Healer Ahola? I'm sure the children would much rather see your face then your mask."

The question shook the woman out of her daze and she stared at the man through the roughly cut holes in her mask. She felt fragile and weak at the thought of removing the only thing preventing her shame being shown to the world. This man barely knew her and was asking for such a thing?

Gentle fingers pried the mask away from her face and Ahola grimaced at the thought of what this person would think when they finally saw the ugly, broken human beneath the colourful façade of her mask.

"Your eyes are a most striking colour, Aloha. You are very blessed to have such beauty both within and on the surface." The unmasked one commented softly.

The feirce woman blinked, flushed a pretty crimson and tried to ignore the thudding of her pulse in her head. These unmasked ones were kind and open. It was something she was unused to and yet as hope fluttered wildly in her chest like a caged sparrow, she wondered when she could expose the rest of her kin to this kindness and heal the scars of the past.


End file.
